SBFagEnds ficlets
by Slaymesoftly
Summary: So, there's this amazing LJ community called sb fag ends that provides weekly prompts for Spike/Buffy ficlets. Not all are fluffy, because "romance isn't always romantic", all are less than 1000 words, but they all feature our twosome. I'll add to this as I have time and fic to share - the prompts will be visible somewhere, possibly in the title if I'm not feeling creative.
1. Chapter 1

**Reflections of the Mind**

"So, I was thinking..."

Spike ran a finger down her arm, too happy that she was hanging around for awhile to pay much attention to her words.

"Ummm hmmmm?" he sighed, following his finger with his lips.

"Are you listening to me?" She squirmed as his lips drifted over the sensitive inside of her elbow. "I'm having thoughts here – important thoughts!"

"All your thoughts are important, love. Every... last ... one... of... them..." He finished murmuring his response with his mouth on hers. There were no sounds but sighs and appreciative moans for some time...

"There was something I wanted to talk about..." Buffy tried to sound annoyed, but it came out more of a satisfied exhalation.

"I remember. You were having... thoughts... Important thoughts, if I remember correctly."

"I was. I am. I just can't remember what they are right now."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, trying to hide his smile – and failing completely.

"You are so full of yourself." When he went to speak, she put a hand over his mouth. "And don't even _think_ about making some piggy remark out of that!"

"Oh, c'mon, love. You can't give me an opening like that and expect me to—"

"You'll be sorry if you do." He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, but remained silent. "'Cause I've remembered what I was thinking..." She snuggled down against him, ignoring his small start of surprise.

After a quiet minute or two, he couldn't help himself. "Which was...?"

Without looking up, she said, "I was thinking that you should come with me tonight – to the Bronze."

He went very still. "_With_ you, or just show up and push my way into the happy little group?"

"No. I mean, with me. Like we came together, sort of like a... coming together thing."

"Like a date."

"Kinda, sorta, I guess that's what I'm saying. I'm not talking about making any big announcement... just... testing the waters. To see if anybody—"

"If anybody gets their knickers in such a twist you have to pretend you hate me just to save the day?"

She was silent for so long he thought she'd gone to sleep. When she sat up, still without speaking, he sighed and knew he'd blown it again. Buffy turned to face him, meeting his resigned gaze with her own glare.

"If you don't want to do it, just say so. I thought..." Her glare wavered. "I thought it would make you... hap—I thought you'd like it. Guess I was wrong." She stood up and began to dress, refusing to look at him again. She was on her way up the ladder when he spoke.

"What time should I pick you up?"

She hesitated. Without turning around, she said, "Make it about seven. We'll hit a couple of cemeteries first – just in case."

"Seven it is. See you later, Buffy."

She nodded silently and continued up the ladder and out of his crypt.

the end

**Lemon Tropics**

**You've Got Thirty Seconds**

It was the scent of lemon that did it. He'd been fine. No Buffy missing. Not here. No sir. Spike is his own man again. No more Love's Bitch. Ready to cut a swath through the ladies... Just biding his time... waiting for the perfect one to come along...

And then he opened the door of his apartment and smelled fruit. He didn't eat fruit. Didn't put fruity little candles or potpourri around. His apartment smelled of manly things... like beer, and whiskey and cigarettes and... where the hell did the fruit come from? Smelled a bit like the citrus stuff Buffy used to but on her hair. But that was ridiculous.

Not Buffy. Never Buffy. Maybe some other, possibly evil, bint had broken into his apartment and she just happened to wear things that smelled like citrus fruit – lemon specifically. And maybe she smelled a little tiny bit like the Slayer – but that was impossible. Buffy was in Europe, living it up with the bloody Immortal...

He spotted the big cardboard cup at the same time that he picked up the yellow sweater (also smelling of lemons and Buffy, he noted). "Tropical Smoothies" it said on the side of it. Between the sweater in his hands, and the drink on his kitchen counter, he couldn't stop the sense memories. He dropped onto his couch, holding the sweater to his face and inhaled deeply.

Biggest wanker in the world. Yeah, he was over her. Gonna take up sunbathing and become a vegetarian too. If anything, the scent was getting stronger. He shifted his grip on the sweater, burying his nose in it and breathing deeply. The lemon scent was fading and it was smelling more and more like Buffy. Had to be something evil – breaking into his apartment and trying to weaken him by leaving things around that smelled like—

"Are you going to keep inhaling that sweater, or would you like a chance to explain to me why I had to find out from Andrew that you aren't ashes at the bottom of a hole – before I beat you to a bloody pulp for it?"

the end

**Be Careful What You Wish For**

"Spike, no. Please..." Buffy's voice was weak, her life obviously fading. The vampire frowned, glancing at his arm where he'd used his teeth to open it for her.

"Don't you want to live? Trying to do you a favor here, you stupid bint."

"Do you hate me that much?"

Even with his vampire hearing, he barely caught her words. He growled in frustration. If pressed to explain what he was doing, he couldn't have said for sure. When he'd found the Slayer bleeding out and near death, he hadn't stopped to question his motives. As soon as he'd heard her heart slowing down, he'd ripped into his wrist and held it out to her. Now she'd made him think.

Did he hate her? Of course he did. Bane of his existence, she was. So why was he trying to save her? Was she right? Was he trying to turn her into one of the very creatures she gave her life fighting because he hated her and thought it would be the ultimate triumph?

Or, perhaps more disturbing, was it because a world without Buffy Summers in it wasn't worth contemplating? Even a Buffy Summers sharing her undead body with a demon?

Memories of a night spent with a warm, loving Buffy on his lap filled his head. Loud, smacking kisses while everyone was watching; softer, deeper kisses and stolen caresses when their attention was elsewhere. A fight almost to the death in bright sunlight – a fight he was winning until his own inability to curb his mouth gave a beaten slayer the anger she needed to rip the ring off his finger and send him scuttling out of the sunlight. Visions flew through his brain – "No, Spike, it's going to hurt a lot." "Hello, Cutie." "I'm all you've got." "I'd rather be fighting you." "Mutual."

Swearing in several languages, and heedless of the blood dripping from his wrist, he kicked the body of the demon Buffy had died fighting until it was only a pulpy mass covered in vamp dust. He dropped to his knees beside her, lowering his face to her bloody neck and licking the blood still oozing slowly. Her heart was barely beating, only the soft whoosh every now and then indicated it hadn't quite stopped yet. He shivered at the taste of her blood, something he'd smelled before, but never been able to sample.

He raised his face, his lips only inches from hers. Her eyes were open, but he couldn't tell if she could still see him or not. He brushed his bloody lips across hers, then slowly brought his wrist to her mouth.

"Your decision, Slayer. I won't force you... but if decide not to join me, I'm going to miss the bloody hell out of you."

He was sure he imagined the faint twitch of a smile as he waited, bleeding wrist just touching her still-warm lips, for her to make his decision for him.

the end?


	2. More sb-fag-ends

So – more drabbles and ficlets written for sf_fag_ends: prompts at top of fics somewhere.

Title:Goodbye

Creator:Slaymesoftly

Rating:PG-13

Setting: Season 6, Bronze

Summary/prompt: _Don't Gripe About the Memory Wipe!_

**Goodbye**

"Goodbye to you... Goodbye to everything that I knew..." His lips were an eraser – one kiss and she had forgotten what it was like to kiss Riley. Another one, and she forgot what it felt like to kiss Angel; the memory wiped out as she melted into the hard body attached to those lips. A third, and the world around them disappeared, nothing but the haunting strains of the singer's voice echoing throughout the club. "Goodbye to..." to being the kind of girl who didn't make-out in public, who didn't let a vampire murmur words of love into her unprotected throat as he worked a muscular thigh between her legs. "Goodbye to everything..."

She didn't think she was going to miss it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

prompt was cheese or chocolate fondue... Christmas 2012...

**CHRISTMAS BERRIES**

"Why am I closing my eyes?"

"Can't you just do what I ask for once, Slayer? Come on, what can it hurt?"

Buffy's almost-shut eyes flew wide open and she stared at him, her mouth making small movements until she got her voice.

"I cannot believe you actually asked me that," she said, shaking her head. "Vampire asks Slayer, who lives on a hellmouth, 'What can it hurt'? if she shuts her eyes. Seriously?"

"Point, pet. But still... you know where we are, I'm only asking you to close your eyes for a few minutes while I..." He sighed. "It's a surprise, love. For you. Just for the holiday. Indulge me, please?"

Her lower lip came out and she was preparing her refusal when she sniffed the air. "Do I smell chocolate?"

"Might. Won't find out if you don't shut those pretty eyes, though." His voice dropped to the register she couldn't resist as he coaxed her with a gentle hand over her eyelids.

"Oooookay... but only for a—"

"Shush," he murmured. "Just wait right here... and don't peek."

Buffy settled herself against the headboard of the bed, resolutely squeezing her eyes closed and using her other senses to try to figure out what Spike was doing. He was back quickly, the mattress dipping under his weight.

"Open your mouth, love," he said, brushing his lips over hers. "Got something I want to put in it."

"Oh, Spike, that's just disgus—mmph!" Her lips closed around the chocolate covered strawberry he'd just placed in her mouth and she moaned in appreciation. Swallowing, she smiled her pleasure and opened her mouth again.

"Greedy little bint, aren't you?" he said, popping another morsel in her mouth. "I like that in a woman."

"You like anything in a woman," she said, licking her lips and opening her mouth again.

"Not true, love." He put another strawberry in her mouth, leaning in and licking a rivulet of warm chocolate off her lower lip. "I'm right choosy about my woman." He rubbed another strawberry over her lips, pulling it away when she tried to bite it and substituting his own chocolate-coated tongue. She giggled and sucked the chocolate off, sidetracking them both until Spike accidentally got too close to the fondue pot holding the chocolate.

"Bloody hell!"

Buffy opened her eyes at his cry of pain, tensing and staring around the room. "What? What's wrong? Do I have to kill it?"

"Nothing's wrong, love. Just got too distracted for a bit there and burned my arse." He glared at the offending pot before moving it back to its heater on a small table beside the bed.

"Poor baby," she giggled. "If it was anywhere else, I'd offer to kiss it better, but..."

"'s alright, Slayer. Know you're not going to kiss my arse, don't I? Although, if you wanted to give it a sympathetic rub..."

Buffy reached around behind him to stroke his ass, distracting them both again for several minutes. Only when she accidentally ran her hand over the minor burn did he flinch and remind them of what they were supposed to be doing.

"Sorry!"

"I'll live. Let's finish up these strawberries, yeah?" He took another berry off the plate and dipped it in the chocolate before offering it to her. Buffy wrapped her lips around it, taking his fingertips into her mouth at the same time and sucking on them until he growled. She grinned and let him pull his fingers out with a loud pop.

Before he could follow up on the look in his eyes, she reached around him for another strawberry, dipped it and offered it to him. He took it from her, taking his time getting all the chocolate off her fingers. They finished up the strawberries taking turns feeding each other, their breathing getting faster with each berry.

"We're out of strawberries," Buffy whispered in his ear as she felt around behind him, trying to find one on the plate.

"But we're not out of chocolate."

"We're not, are we? Whatever should we do with it?" Buffy's eyes were hooded as she ran her hand down his bare chest and settled back against the pillows with a slow smile.

"Oh, I think you know what we're going to with it, Slayer," he purred, bringing the pot to the bed again. He dipped his finger into the warm chocolate and scooped out a big glob. "Question is, where am I gonna do it?"

Buffy and Spike lay sprawled on the bed, the empty chocolate pot sat, forgotten, on the floor beside them.

"I need a shower... or a bath... or something."

"Why? Did I miss a spot?" There was no real curiosity in Spike's voice, only a lazy satisfaction. He turned his head to look at her. "Gotta say, love, I think it's a good look for you."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, you're all sticky too, mister. What are we going to do about this, huh? I have to get home and help with Christmas dinner – to which you've been invited, remember?"

"Like I'd forget that," he said, his voice and gaze suddenly alert and focused. "Still can't believe you're going to parade me in front of the Scoobies."

"I'm just inviting you to dinner. It's not like you aren't there a lot anyway. Nobody will think it's weird."

"Oh." His happy expression faded. "I reckon I ought to give you your gift now then?"

"This wasn't it?" Buffy tried to tease him out of the obvious disappointment her words caused.

"You know it wasn't. This was as much Happy Christmas to Spike as it was to Buffy."

She rolled over on top of him, making a face as their two sticky bodies touched. "I think you should bring me a present on Christmas Day, just like everybody else."

"Could cause a Scoobie meltdown," he warned, even as his expression brightened.

"Got to happen sooner or later, doesn't it? Might as well be Christmas when everyone's in a good mood."

"Good will toward men... er vampires."

"Exactly!" She pulled away, wincing when her skin appeared to be stuck. "Be there at five."

"With bells on, Slayer."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Mashing Monsters ** (Halloween)

"What the bloody fuck—" Spike snarled and kicked the small demon trying to gnaw on his leg. He stared around. He knew it was Halloween—down time for most vamps and demons, although he'd never been much of a stickler about that tradition. So, why were the streets suddenly full of demons, monsters and strangely different vampires? And why were they all under four feet tall? He sniffed the air.

"Magic. I might have known..." He jumped onto the roof of a nearby car and sat down to watch the chaos developing around him. "This could be a lot of fun," he said to no one in particular, leaning back on his elbows and enjoying the sight of so many vicious, if tiny, creatures running around attacking the confused adults trying to control them. Every now and then, he'd see an older, larger monster of some sort, but the zombies sensed his lack of life and the other vampires weren't interested in his borrowed blood.

He tensed when a teenager dressed in military gear stopped to glare at him with suspicion. They exchanged hard stares, the boy caressing the stock of his very real-looking gun as he took in Spike's thuggish demeanor. A scream from down the street tore the soldier's attention away and he ran off before he got the opportunity to find out exactly how much not a charade Spike's dangerous image actually was. There'd been something familiar about the boy's face, but not the in the confident, possibly lethal attitude.

An equally familiar looking, barely-dressed, pretty redhead drifted by, seeming confused and worried. He hopped off the car, intent on following her, until he got close enough to notice how insubstantial she was.

"Bugger," he muttered, loud enough for her to spin around, see him, and squeak "Spike!" before taking off at a run. "Aha. One of the Slayer's little pals, then. All ghostly and whatnot." He strolled after her, absently batting away any small monsters that attempted to accost him. One flash of his true face was enough to cause all the temporary adult vampires to back off, and he was able to keep the fast-moving ghost in sight without trouble.

One part of his mind noticed that only some of the Halloween revelers had apparently turned into their costumes. His attention wandered from the ghost he'd been following, distracted by the scent and sight of a girl wearing a cat suit. It was obvious from her reaction when he walked up and offered to rub her ears—"... or anything else you have that might need rubbin'..." that she was not feeling anything like a cat, and in fact also recognized him. She screamed, slapped him, and bolted for a nearby house where the door opened quickly to let her in.

Spike shrugged and walked around the house, testing the barrier with one hand, as he passed the kitchen door. When he discovered that he couldn't get in, he sighed and went back to the street, looking for easier prey.

"Got to be some sweet young thing out here tonight what need's 'saving'. And I'm just the vamp to do it. And then I'll explain to her just how she can show her gratitude..." He wandered off toward the less residential part of town, listening for sounds of distress, and was soon rewarded with cries for help coming from a nearby alley. "Well, well. What have we here?" He licked his lips as he watched the would-be pirate manhandling the crying girl. Only when he got close enough to realize who the damsel in distress really was, did his eyes light up and his fangs descend.

XXXXXXXXX

**Moaning Stones (prompt)**

What are you doing?" Buffy's whisper was more high-pitched than she'd intended.

"What am I doing? You're the one doing all the bloody moaning. I'd think you'd have more consideration of my feelings—"

"I'm not the one making those... sounds. It has to be you; and I think it's disgusting. Doing that while I'm right he—"

"It wasn't me, you bloody bitch. And if it wasn't you, then—"

"Oh. Then it wasn't either one of us... Well, that's... that's good. I guess. I mean, it means neither one of us is..."

"Means neither one of us is havin' as good a time as whatever's making that noise."

"Maybe... maybe it's in... pain?" The moaning was getting louder.

"Does that sound like pain to you?" Spike snorted. "Whatever it is, it's having a lot more fun than we are. If we're lucky, it's so busy being not-in-pain, it won't notice when we grab the amulet and scamper the hell out of here."

The sounds got louder as they crawled toward the box glowing just ahead of them.

"I don't see why they couldn't have put this thing in a real cave. You know, one that we can get in and out of in an upright position."

"I'm kind of enjoying this position, pet." Spike's voice contained an audible leer.

"What? Why, oh you—"

"I offered to go first. But you were so bloody sure I was trying to get something over on you..."

"You just pretended you wanted to go first so that I'd say no and you could be behind me. That's just... evil."

"Vampire, pet."

"What? Where? Ow!" Buffy stopped and rubbed her head where she'd whacked it against the ceiling.

"Here, you stupid bint. Vampire, evil? Ringing any bells, Slayer?"

"Fine, you go first then. Just grab the amulet and let's get out of here."

"Alright. No staring at my arse, though. Just flatten yourself against the wall so I can get by..." Suiting actions to words, he tried to get past her in the narrow space. Only to find himself pressed up against her squirming body. "Ah, Slayer, come on. That's not even fair," he groaned.

"I didn't do it on purpose, you dope! The wall pushed me."

"The wall pushed you? Oh that's pathetic, even for you."

"It did! I was all pressed against it so you could get by and then it just... pushed me."

"Pushed you. Up against me. Just as I was sliding past you. Whatever, Slayer. Hold your breath so I can squeeze through here and grab that—ah, got it." He tried to bring his arm down to put the amulet in his coat pocket, but something nudged the arm and he ended up with the amulet pressed up against Buffy's hip. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Didn't mean to do that."

"It's... " Buffy sounded a little breathless as he kept moving his hand around trying to reach his own pocket. "It's okay. Just put it in my pocket, since that's where your hand is."

"I think... alright, I got it. It's in your pocket and I... I think these bloody walls are pressing us closer together."

"I noticed that." Buffy's voice was breathy as she moved against him. "I'm trying to get loose, but—"

"But you're going to drive me bloody crazy if you don't stop that wigglin' around!"

"I'm just trying to get us—what are you doing?"

"Nothing. I just thought if I moved my arms up like this, you'd have more room to—Bloody hell, Slayer!"

"I didn't mean to do that!" Buffy's voice was muffled, coming as it was from the vicinity of his crotch where she'd somehow slid to in her attempts to wriggle back out of the shrinking passage.

"Well, undo it, or I'm not responsible for—"

"Stop that!"

Obviously speaking through his gritted teeth, Spike growled, "Your bloody mouth is right by my—and you're breathing hard. This is not something I've got any control over, luv."

"Okay, okay. We can do this. We got in here, we can get out of—Will you stop that stupid moaning!"

"Wasn't me."

"I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to the damn stones. They're distracting me."

"Getting a bit sidetracked myself," he said, shifting his hips until she was no longer breathing directly on him. "Can you get out the rest of the way?"

"I think... so... yeah! I'm almost... okay, I'm out. The walls aren't pushing in on me anymore, so if I can turn around... Okay, forget that. I'll just back out. Can you move now? Are you coming?"

"Apparently not," he sighed, sounding more aggrieved than relieved to be loose.

"Don't be disgusting, Spike."

"Says the woman who just spent the past ten minutes breathing on my long-suffering di—"

"Shut up, Spike. We are never speaking of this again."

"Speak for yourself, Slayer. This is the closest I've come to getting laid in weeks. I'm going to savor the memory."

The moans from the now normal-size tunnel walls had turned to something that sounded much more like complaining groans as Spike and Buffy worked their way back to the entrance. When they crawled out of the cave mouth, the moans turned to heart-broken shrieks before dying down completely.

"Do you think we killed it?"

"Don't give a bloody damn. That cave tried to distract us by making us think about... I hope it's dead."

"Was that so awful? I mean, thinking about..."

"Not for you maybe. I'm going be to walking funny until I can get home and have myself a good wank."

"Ewww, Spike. Way to spoil the moment." Buffy huffed and turned around to walk away. Spike watched her stalk off, back stiff, before he realized what she'd said.

"Wait! What? We were having a moment? Why didn't I know? Buffy? Wait!"

The end.


	3. fag ends halloween prompts (2011)

So, for Halloween 2011 (I think) there were all these amazing prompts – new one every day – and we all (ok, Brutti_ma_buoni and me) competed to not miss doing every one. I think I got them all on here and in the right order. The prompts are the titles mostly. All creepy/scary/dead things of one sort or another sent by the big bad whose name is Mortiflex or something like that... Looks like I never finished the last one, but I think we can assume Spike and Buffy took care of Morti...

**Skeletons**

"Spike, bones!"

"Bones? What about them, Slayer? Thought we were here to stop the—" His eyes lit up. "Did you mean you'd like to jump mine now, before we have to fight?"

"What? Ewww! No, you… No, I meant, watch out, Spike, there are bones and they— oops?"

She giggled as Spike went down from a blow delivered by a skeleton wielding a club. Her amusement was short-lived as another of the animated skeletons swung a sword at her head and she had to duck away, rolling far enough that she could come up swinging her own sword and taking off the head of her attacker. When the headless skeleton kept moving, she sighed and began whacking at the arms reaching for her.

"Wonderful! It's the Terminator all over again, and me without a big squishing machine handy."

"Break them, love," Spike said, shaking off pieces of bone as he emerged from a pile of no longer moving skeletons. "When they're broken they stop moving. It's kinda fun." He grinned and met the next wave of attackers with a whoop of joy. "Bring it, you walking Halloween decorations!" he said, wading into them to the accompaniment of snapping and cracking sounds. With a shudder, Buffy began using her sword as a club and soon had amassed her own pile of broken bones.

When the only moving things left on the field of battle were Buffy and Spike, they took a moment to enjoy the victory. As they turned to walk home, Spike nudged her arm. "Now back to my original question..."

XXXXXXX

**Zombies**

"Crisis averted," Buffy said with satisfaction as she dropped her sword near the door. "We turned them all into piles of broken bones. Yay us!" She looked around the room at the solemn faces staring back at her. "What? We did good; Skeleton army all gone." She turned to Spike, loitering in the hallway. "Right? We got them all?"

"Not what the long faces in here are sayin', Slayer." He fixed a hard eye on Giles. "Holdin' out on us, were you, Rupert?"

"Nonsense!" Giles said, glaring at the unrepentant vampire. "I've just received more information that indicates…."

Buffy threw herself on the couch with a groan. "You're about to ruin my day, aren't you?"

"Possibly the rest of the week…" Willow put in timidly. Buffy straightened and stood as Spike came to stand by her and glare at Giles.

"What?"

"What the bloody hell?"

Glaring back at Spike, Giles said, "It seems that the skeletons were only the first wave. The next batch of animated dead fighters is going to be—"

"Please tell me you're going to say 'vampires'," Buffy begged. "If the next word out of your mouth is—"

"Zombies!" Xander offered with a helpful wave.

"That was the word I didn't want to hear. I HATE zombies!"

Xander shifted his eyes to Spike. "Isn't that kind of what evil undead there is? A corpse that won't stay lying down?"

Spike growled and bared his teeth. "I don't eat brains," he said, clearly offended. "And none of my body parts are fallin' off."

"If you don't get your hand off my ass, you could be losing an important body part," Buffy hissed in his ear. "I thought we agreed you'd keep your hands to yourself in front of… well, everybody."

"Sorry, love. It was just right there in front of me and I forgot…." He straightened up, announcing, "All right, then. The slayer and I will head back out to slay zombies." He turned to Giles. "How do we do it?"

"Um… well, we were just researching that…" He glanced at Buffy. "How did you do it before?"

"I smashed that stupid mask that Mom brought home."

"I see. So, you will need to locate the object that is being used to animate them and destroy it."

"Or I could just set fire to them," Buffy said, taking Spike's lighter from his pocket and flicking it on and off.

"Well, yes, that could—"

"We'll need gasoline, luv. Lots of it. Best leave now to start organizing our weapons." He tried to encourage Buffy in the direction of the door. "You lot just concentrate on figuring out what the object might be and where it is. Slayer and I are going out to set bonfires."

Hours later, when Sunnydale was dotted with smoldering piles of dead, decomposing flesh, Buffy and Spike paused to congratulate each other.

"Bloody brilliant of you, pet. Storing the petrol all over town so we'd always had some handy."

"Well, I wouldn't have thought of it if you hadn't said we could use gasoline to burn bunches of them at one time."

"Make a bloody good team, don't we?"

"We do," she agreed, moving willingly into his embrace. "And we've got some time to kill before you have to go hide from the sun…"

"Could hide in my crypt," he crooned, nuzzling her ear. "Only dead body there is much more alive than any of these wankers ever were." He pressed the proof of his vitality against her as he whispered in her ear.

"Mmmmmm," she responded. "Sounds like a plan. Race you there."

XXXXXXXXXXX

**Ghosts**

It Could Be Worse...

"Let me guess," Buffy said, walking into Giles's apartment with her vampire shadow beside her. "We're not done yet. Old Multiplex or whatever his name is has something else up his slimy sleeves."

That is one way of putting it," Giles said, frowning at the vampire's proximity to his slayer. "I think we can safely assume that he has not given up yet, and he will continue to use his skills as a necromancer to attempt to take over the Hellmouth."

"Well, he's done skeletons and zombies, what's left?" There was a crashing silence while everyone stared at Spike who was attempting to appear invisible. "What? No. If he was going to use vamps he would've started with them… wouldn't he?" She addressed her question to Spike, who shrugged.

"Vamps have a bit more free will than bones and decomposing bodies, luv. Might be he's working his way up to us—them."

"Well then, I don't see what we—stop that!"

"Stop what?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"You… you goosed me!"

"Did not! Didn't touch you."

"Well who did then? I didn't imagine it."

Willow pointed over Buffy's shoulder. "Um, maybe he did?"

Hovering in mid-air was a grinning specter, wiggling his fingers at the enraged Slayer. When she tried to hit him, he slid out through the wall and vanished. They all stared at the apparently solid wall through which the ghost had disappeared. Buffy turned and appealed to Spike.

"Seriously? Ghosts? Goosing ghosts?"

He shrugged. "Makes sense, doesn't it? All part of the controlling the dead gig."

"How the hell do I fight a ghost?"

Buffy was going into a full-blown pout when Xander said, his voice shaking just slightly, "Better make that ghosts, Buffy." He pointed to the windows, all of which were now filled with grinning, but transparent faces. Even the windows that were covered had ghostly faces on them, just peering out of the window shades rather than glass.

"Giles? Willow?"

"Working on it," Willow muttered, opening her laptop. Giles was busy snatching books from his shelves and handing them to Xander, Tara and Anya. As the ghostly manifestations began to fill the room, Buffy retreated to the table around which everyone was sitting. She could see Spike staring at her with curiosity, and she glared at him in challenge.

"What? I don't do ghosts. You can't hit them, they're already dead, and they're spooky."

"This from the woman who spends her nights prowling graveyards for things that go bump in the night," he said. He opened his mouth to say something else but interrupted himself to give a very unmanly shriek as he swatted at several female wraithes. "Stop that, you bloody…. Take your hands off… Oi! Only one woman gets to play with that – and she's very much alive."

He quickly retreated to Buffy's side, holding his hands over the violated part of his anatomy.

"Please move away from the table," Giles said as the ghosts continued to surround both Spike and Buffy, clearly touching them in inappropriate places to the accompaniment of much swearing and threatening, as well as much waving around of hands and punching of the air. "In fact, perhaps if you go outside they will follow you and we can get on with our research."

"Oh, that's nice. Just push the two people under attack out into the dark. Way to go, Giles!" Buffy continued to swat at the hands touching her body, even as she obediently moved toward the door. "Come on, Spike. Let's just take our ghosts and get out of here."

"Maybe they'll stay behind and start molesting the Watcher," Spike said, glaring at Giles. "Make his day, that would, wouldn't it, Rupert?"

"Out!" Giles swatted at one of the female ghosts that had drifted closer to peer over his shoulder. She turned away when Buffy opened the door and followed the rest of them out through the walls.

"Well, so much for that plan." Buffy continued to jump and swat at the spirits swirling around them. "What's wrong with these things, anyway?"

"Probably tryin' to keep us too busy to fight anything else off. Or…could be we're just irresistible."

Buffy smothered a giggle. "Maybe. You are kind of… sexy… sometimes."

"And you're bloody gorgeous," he responded, waving away one of the ghosts so he could pull Buffy into a loose embrace. They fell into a long kiss, broken only when Buffy pulled away to ask, "Is that your hand?"

"My hands are right here, love." He demonstrated by squeezing her tightly. "But yours seem to be wandering…"

"My hands are right here," Buffy said, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Well, if mine are here, and yours are there…."

"Bloody hell!"

"Eek!"

They swatted ineffectually at their ethereal companions and began walking away quickly.

"You know, Slayer," he began as they jogged toward Restfield, trailed by the lusty wraiths. "There are worse things than having more than two hands involved when you are…"

"Do you mean… ewww, Spike! We don't know these… people, ghosts, whatevers. I don't want them even watching us… never mind participating."

"I'm just saying.…"

"NO! N. O. no."

He sighed. "Right you are, love. Wouldn't be right, would it. Trying to concentrate on what we're doin' while those soft, cool hands keep running over our bodies, touching us… stroking…." He shook himself. "Wouldn't be right. Absolutely. Totally wrong."

Buffy's breathing had sped up as he talked and a warm flush went over her body. "Of course, it's not like they're really real is it? Just manifestations of…."

"Exactly," he said as he held the door open for her. "Practically figments of our imagination. With very… ummmmm…. talented hands…."

...

"I think old Multiplex might have won this round," Buffy sighed. She sprawled beside Spike, sated and exhausted. "We didn't slay anything tonight."

"Don't know. Don't care," he mumbled, trying to raise his arm to touch her and giving up before he'd even lifted it off the bed. "More power to him."

"They're gone, I think."

"Must be mornin'"

"Do you think they'll be back?"

"I bloody well hope so!" He chuckled when she gave him a weak poke in his ribs.

"We should check in with Giles…." Buffy's eyes drifted shut as she yawned and curled into his side.

"I'll get right on tha—" Spike began to snore softly.

XXXXXXXXXX

**REVENGE** IS... BORING? (Dusted vampires)

Buffy was yawning as she walked into Giles' apartment. "So, Watcher-man, what do you think his royal ickiness has for me tonight?"

"In terms of raising the dead and controlling them to use as weapons, I don't believe there's much left besides—" He broke off as Spike walked in without knocking. "—vampires," he finished.

"What about vampires?"

"Giles was just saying that all that's left are vampires… in the way of dead things that might be used as weapons." She stared at Spike suspiciously. "Are you feeling weapony?"

"That's not what I'm feeling at all, Slayer," he responded, curling his tongue up behind his teeth. Giles noticed her blush and groaned.

"Please tell me that you two are not…"

"We can tell you whatever you want to hear," Spike said, waiting for Buffy's tacit permission before continuing, "but saying it won't make it so."

"Oh dear lord." Giles sighed and sat down heavily, jumping up again when there was a soft pattering against the window. "What the—"

Pulling the curtain back, Buffy flinched from the dust coating the window. "What the hell? A dust storm?"

Spike was peering at another window. "That's strange-looking dust… almost looks like—Bloody hell," he breathed, dropping the curtain and pulling Buffy away from the window.

"Looks like what?" She shook him off. "What's wrong with you?"

"Instead of answering her, he asked, "How many vamps do you think you've dusted in your career, love?"

"No idea. Why?"

"Cause I think he's sent all those dusty vamps after you. You're going to have to stay inside here."

"Of course," Giles said, taking his own peek out the windows. "He's sending them out to seek vengeance… but they're only dust, so…"

"So they can't hurt me, right?" Buffy looked back and forth between Spike and Giles. Their eyes met in a moment of understanding before they turned their attention back to Buffy.

"Could choke you to death in a heartbeat if they could get to you," Spike said. "You're going to have to sit this one out, pet. Going outside would be suicide."

"Great. Who knows what he'll get up to while I'm stuck in here. That'd make two nights I didn't get any slaying done, or get any closer to him."

"Two nights? Were you two unable to rid yourselves of last night's manifestations? Surely they didn't interfere with your slaying?"

Buffy blushed crimson and didn't respond while Spike bit back a laugh. Taking pity on the Slayer, who clearly couldn't think of anything to say, he said, "Was a mite hard to concentrate on… anything… with all those hands grabbing body parts they had no business touching."

"They were very distracting…" Buffy finally managed to get out.

"Forget I asked," Giles said quickly, reaching for his Scotch. "I suppose the only thing to do is to remain safely indoors. It does not appear that they are able to enter, in spite of being mere motes of dust and ash."

"And I'd guess they'll be ineffective by dawn," Spike agreed. "His mojo only seems to work at night."

"So, what? We have to stay here until the sun comes up?"

"Not what I had in mind, love, but it beats the alternative. The question is, what are we going to do here?"

Giles held up a large, flat box. "Monopoly, anyone?"

XXXXXXXXX

**POLTERGEISTS**

Buffy groaned when her hairbrush flew across the room and thudded against the wall. When she tried to pick it up, it whisked itself out of her hand and back to the other side of the room. Her eyes narrowed as she stalked toward it. "Okay, once is an accident, twice might be a coincidence, but if it— Argh!" Again the brush moved before she could grab it, smacking her on the ass as it flew across the room again.

Instead of pursuing the brush, she dove for the phone, hanging on with every ounce of slayer strength when it also tried to leave her hand. Muttering curses the whole time, she managed to speed dial Giles' number, only to hear two distinct British voices swearing just as vigorously, if less understandably.

"You too?" Buffy said, yanking hard on the phone and smiling when it went loose in her hand. Hah! "What the hell is going on now?"

"Poltergeists," Giles said. "They can't manifest, but they can manipulate objects. I strongly suggest you not bring out any weapons. Spike came very close to being dust when a stake—bloody hell!" There was more cursing and the sound of the phone hitting the floor before Spike's voice came on the line.

"Are you okay, Buffy? Nothing's throwing knives or whatnot at you?" He made no attempt to hide his concern.

"I'm not the one Giles just said was almost dust. What happened?"

"Stake came at my chest. Not to worry, I caught it in plenty of time. Soddin' little bugger isn't faster than me. I just have to be careful not to turn my back on it."

"What happened to Giles?"

"Watcher's all right too. He just had to dodge a book. We're working on fixing this – just need to find the right spell and—bloody, buggering fuck! Will you leave off with the pointy wooden things!" She heard the phone hit the floor again, then nothing but a crunching sound and a dial tone.

"I'm coming over there," she said to the dead phone as she ducked her head. "Hey! I liked that lamp!"

Getting from her house to Giles's was a bit trickier than she'd expected. The streets of Sunnydale were dark as all the streetlights seemed to have been broken out, and the occasional flowerpot or trash can would come flying out of the darkness without warning. Only Buffy's quick reactions kept her from being injured as she made her way to Giles's apartment complex. She pushed in the door just in time to intercept a coffee mug aimed at her head. As her hand wrapped around the cup, she felt a cold… something… and she clutched it against the cup as firmly as she could. Frantic wriggling told her that even though the poltergeist was invisible, it could be touched. At least it could if it was touching the same object as its prey.

"I've got one!" she shouted, hanging on with both hands. Spike edged his way to her side, keeping his back carefully pressed against a wall as he did so. He batted away two stakes and a book before he got close enough to reach out and follow the poltergeist "arm" until he got to something that felt like it could be vulnerable. He took a strong grip on whatever body part he had and wrenched it hard, surprised when there was a piercing shriek and the entity dissolved in their hands.

He and Buffy looked at each other, matching feral grins coming to their faces. Taking care not to allow room for anything else to touch a weapon, Buffy pulled out two swords, slamming the lid of the chest shut fast enough to trap another "hand". Holding the lid down with one hand, she used the other to poke the air in front of her until she encountered resistance. Twisting the sword viciously, she was rewarded with another shriek and another suddenly empty space.

"Okay, Giles. I think we can keep you safe while you find the spell you need to get rid of these guys." Ranging themselves in front of Giles, who had his own back to a wall, Buffy and Spike used their swords to bat away all the objects being thrown at them by the now warier poltergeists that had clearly learned not to approach the two armed people. Even with vampire and slayer strength and speed, Buffy and Spike were finding the constant movement tiring. "Anytime now, Watcher," Spike growled. "If we start slowing down…"

I've got it," Giles said, holding his finger on the page. When it looked like something was trying to drag his finger away and close the book, Buffy brought her sword down in a chopping motion and smiled in satisfaction when it was suddenly easy for Giles to hold the page open as he read aloud the spell needed to rid themselves of the annoyingly dangerous ghostlets. Buffy and Spike held their swords at the ready for several minutes after it became silent in the room, but when all the inanimate objects seemed inclined to stay where they'd fallen, they sighed and dropped the points toward the floor.

"Is that it?" Buffy asked, staring around at the ruin that was her watcher's living room and kitchen. Broken crockery, shattered glass, and books everywhere gave some indication of how things had been going before she got there. Giles had several bruises on his head and a cut over one eye, while Spike had more than one rip in his leather coat when a stake had almost made it through his defenses.

"I believe so," Giles said, standing up and peering around the room. Satisfied that the spell seemed to have worked, he sighed. "I suppose we had better begin the cleanup—"

Spike and Buffy exchanged identical horrified looks and began edging toward the door.

"I think we…"

"Need to make sure the spell worked for the whole town, don't we?"

"Right. Sorry, Giles, duty calls," Buffy said as she ducked under Spike's arm and out the door he was holding for her. Ignoring the sputtering behind them, they pulled the door closed and sprinted out of the parking lot.

"That was terrible of us," Buffy said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Well, I'm evil. Don't know what your excuse is, Slayer," he said putting an arm around her shoulders and smiling down at her.

"I think that's my excuse. My boyfriend is evil."

She refused to meet his shocked gaze, walking off vigorously and wondering what had possessed her to say that aloud.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

**Not My Vampire! (Lich)**

Having spent the day apart – Spike in his crypt and Buffy trying to maintain some semblance of a normal life –Buffy hurried toward the Magic Box where they'd all agreed to meet and await whatever Mortifex was planning to throw at them that night. By the time she arrived, Spike was pacing around the shop, paying no attention to Giles and his continued request that the vampire explain his restlessness. Buffy walked in just as the sun set, and the fall darkness fell almost immediately. The change in Spike was startling. His eyes focused on her hungrily and a growl rumbled in his throat until he caught himself and shook it off.

"Let's go, love," he said without even greeting her. "I know what's comin' after you tonight. We need to get you someplace private – your house or the Watcher's."

"What is it? What do think it's going to be? And how do you know?" She waved at Giles as she followed Spike from the shop, running to keep up with him.

"'Cause I can feel it – feel the pull. Not gonna be the only vamp what—" He spun her around and went into game face, immediately letting go and swearing. Buffy stared at him in shock as he went back to his human mien and threw a punch at her head, following up with a vicious kick that knocked the wind out of her.

"Spike! What the—" He tackled her to the ground, snarling as he went back into vamp face. Immediately he threw himself off of her and lay on the ground beside her swearing and breathing heavily.

"Get away from me, Buffy. Now, Slayer! Get away. Someplace no vamps can get in."

"Spike, there isn't anywhere I go that you don't have an invite to. What the hell is wrong?"

"Want to kill you love— well, that's a bloody lie. I don't want to kill you, but I can't help myself. That's what's going to be coming after you tonight – all the vamps in Sunnydale. Even the ones that usually run and hide when they know you're around."

Buffy shrugged. "So we have to work a little harder than normal – we can—"

"There is no 'we', love. I'm one of them. Chip doesn't seem to be working – not as hard as the spell, anyway. You need to get away from me."

"Why aren't you trying to kill me now?" She pointed back and forth between them as she sat next to his supine body.

"Huh. Don't know." He sat up and shook off his demon, but before he could say anything else, he immediately pounced on her again. As his fangs dropped once more and he reached for her throat, his motion changed and he ended up pinning her with his body while he nuzzled her neck and licked it. Buffy waited, her body tensed to throw him off, until he sat up and moved away, beginning to shake off his wrinkles and fangs. "I'm sorry, love. I—"

"Don't lose the fangs!" she said.

"Are you crazy?" He glared at her, fading back into his human face – which she immediately punched to the ground, bring his demon to the fore again. And again, he was immediately contrite. "Didn't say to try to break my face, Slayer. I just said to get away from me!"

"You stop when the demon's out, you moron. It's when you go all human-looking on me that you try to attack me."

"Well, fuck," he said, cocking his head at her. "Who would have guessed it?"

"Guessed what? That you're Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde? I'm getting the picture…"

"When I'm which one?" he asked. "Think about it, Slayer. What did you just tell me to do?"

"I said don't lose the fangs – that's the only time you're you… OMG, it's the demon that remembers me, that knows…"

He nodded and moved closer, touching her face with one hand. "It's the demon that knows how much you mean to me." He shook his head. "Looks like my demon's in love with you, Buffy. He won't hurt you."

"What about the rest of you?" Her face clouded as she realized that only the demon cared enough not to try to kill her.

"Without the demon, I'm just a dead man. Still love you, Slayer, you've got to know that by now. But I can't fight whatever spell that lich has put on me. I'm sure he expected me to take advantage of… of your trust… and kill you before you could fight back. He didn't count on my demon being very much alive."

"Okay, then. Let's your demon and me go tackle this guy once and for all. He's got a lot of nerve trying to control my boyfriend!" She jumped to her feet. "I'm going make him wish he'd never set one slimy foot in Sunnydale."

"Not gonna be easy, love," he cautioned. "This is one powerful lich, and he has his mind set on owning the Hellmouth. He's drawing power from it all the time. Probably raising plenty of help of one sort or another."

"Well so far, everything he's conjured up has turned out to be either easy to beat or friendly…" They both paused to appreciate the memories of their night with the ghosts. "And trying to get my vampire to kill me isn't working out all that great for him either."

"I'm not the only vamp in Sunnydale, Buffy. And I'm pretty sure the others don't have my reasons for keeping you alive. We may have to fight our way to that symbol of his wee little dick." He gestured at the black tower looming at the edge of town.

"So we fight our way there. Your demon's a good fighter, and I'm really, really pissed off, so…"

"Have it your way, love. Far be it from me to stand in the path of a brassed off slayer." He stood up and extended his hand, pulling her to her feet. He leaned in as if to kiss her, then remembered he was in game face and jerked back. Buffy wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers, ignoring his fangs and kissing him until he responded with a deep growl and arms that felt like steel bands around her body.

"Those long-dead sorcerers don't stand a chance," he growled. "Let's go get 'em."

XXXXXXXXXX

**REVENANTS**

Wearing his fangs and wrinkles, Spike paced beside Buffy as she stomped her way toward the forbidding looking tower in which Mortifex was hiding. As they approached, something that looked like a cross between a vampire and a zombie approached and silently headed straight for Buffy. She removed its head with one swipe of her sword, barely acknowledging it's presence.

"Okay, most vamps are pretty ugly – present company excepted," she said with a sidelong glance at Spike's distorted face. "But that was just above and beyond ugly. What was that thing?"

"Probably a revenant," Spike said. "It's about the only dead thing he hasn't raised yet… unless that tower is full of other liches…."

"A revenant. Isn't that like a zombie?"

"Bit more solid, better able to think and act independently. Not quite a vamp, though. There's no demon animating the body, just the warlock's mojo."

"Well, they're gross. Oh look, here come more of them!" Moving slightly apart, Spike and Buffy began to hack their way through the small army of shambling revenants between them and the open door of the tower. It was slow, messy work, as removing the heads seemed to be the only way to assure that they remained down. It took them a good half an hour to chop their way to the entrance and to dispose of the vampires waiting there. Finally, they were inside the tower and facing a tall, gaunt figure in long robes.

Surrounding him were a collection of smaller, but similarly clad images that kept fading in and out. Spike leaned in and whispered to Buffy. "Looks like he's not quite strong enough to keep them here. That's good for us. Means they probably can't help him out that much, magic-wise."

Mortifex glared at Spike. "I gave you specific instructions, Vampire. Why is this creature still alive to bother me?"

"You've got some control of the dead man I was, you stupid git. My demon is as alive as… well a good bit more alive than you are, now that I think on it. You've got no control over him. And he's right fond of the Slayer. Has no desire to see her dead."

"I knew vampires wouldn't get the job done," Mortfex grumbled. "Stupid disobedient demons with their own opinions. But that's all right, we're not done yet!" He gestured to his back-up squad of barely visible dead sorcerers, frowning when Spike and Buffy just laughed. "Go," he said. "I'm allowing you to leave here unharmed."

Buffy glanced at Spike. "He wants us to leave? But I haven't slayed him yet."

"Think he may already be dead, love," Spike whispered. "Didn't the Watcher tell you what to do when you got to him?"

"Uh… no?"

Spike began swearing in several languages, pausing only to take her hand and pull her back out the door.

"We'll be back!" Buffy said with a wave as she allowed herself to be yanked away.

XXXXXXXXXX

**(**_**a wight)**_

They were half-way back to the Magic Box, Buffy swearing the entire way while Spike berated her for charging in without knowing what she needed to know. She finally whirled on him.

"You might have said something before we left! Maybe he was going to tell me then, but you were all "Oh, no, let's get going, Buffy. Otherwise I might try to kill you."

"I wastrying to kill you, you stupid bint! Or, I knew that part of me wanted to."

"Which part?" she demanded. "Tell me again how it's only your demon who loves me."

"Right now," he said, gritting his teeth and causing his fangs to clash against one another, "I think both parts of me want to kill you for being so stupid."

"Hmmph!" She tossed her head and started walking again. "It's not such a big deal. We go to Giles, find out how to kill Multi-plex – or make him deader, or whatever the hell it is I have to do to kick him out of Sunnydale – go back, do it, and be home in time for… Well, whatever."

"How do we know he's done throwing things at us?"

"How many more freaking dead things can there be?" Her voice rose considerably.

"Dunno exactly, but got to be some we haven't seen yet. Just be grateful he isn't strong enough to raise all of them at the same time." She strode into the magic box and stopped so abruptly that Spike ran into her back.

"Giles?" Her watcher looked up at her with blank eyes, drool pooling at the corner of his mouth. She stared around the room, noting the equally out-of-it expressions on the faces of her friends. Before she could ask Spike what he thought had happened, she felt a cold, slimy tendril of… something… insert itself into her skull. "Spi…." She collapsed in front of him, only his vampire speed saving her from hitting the floor.

He cast around the room frantically, searching for any sign that there was something he could fight. As Buffy became as semi-comatose as the others, he felt a tickle against the side of his head and he lowered her gently to the floor. He slapped his hand against his head, pinning an appendage that made even him shudder with the chill that went deeper than his own demon-enhanced undeath. The creature on the other end of the appendage emerged from where it had been hiding behind the counter. Although it didn't look solid, the tendril it had tried to stick into Spike's head was more than real.

The creature, whatever it was, seemed to realize he was not alive and tried to pull away, but Spike held on, reeling it closer to him until he could get his hands around a now visible throat.

"No…." it hissed. "We are the same, you and I…."

"In your dreams," he snarled, putting both hands around its throat and beginning to squeeze. The hissing grew louder and louder until his thumbs met his fingers and the creature seemed to melt away into the floor. He kicked the floor once or twice for good measure, then bent over Buffy who was beginning to stir.

"Are you alright, pet?" Ignoring the other humans in the room, he held her tightly, nuzzling her and murmuring in her ear. When he heard a gasp from Giles, he looked up, his yellow eyes puzzled. "What?" It wasn't until the man produced a stake and leapt to his feet that he realized how it must look, a drowsy slayer in his arms and him with his fangs exposed. Fortunately, Giles was still somewhat woozy from his draining experience, and he was moving slowly enough for Spike to stand up and put Buffy on her feet.

"Un, Buffy? Love? This may be a good time to tell your watcher about—"

She blinked at him, then at Giles who was moving more rapidly and waving at Xander to help him. "Oh. What's with the stake, Giles? Are you guys okay? What was that thing?"

"Buffy? Are you unharmed? Did Spike…?"

"I guess he killed it." She shrugged and smiled up into Spike's golden eyes. "My hero."

**Dragon**

Once everyone had calmed down and heard Buffy's explanation for why Spike was wearing his fangs, they all draped themselves on chairs around the table to recover.

"What was that thing doing?"

"I believe it was siphoning off our essences – our humanity, perhaps. It did seem to become slightly more solid and visible with each victim."

"So, what? We all got our… selves back when the slightly less evil undead there killed it?"

"Apparently so." Giles looked at Buffy and Spike. "To what do we owe the timely rescue? Did you know it was coming here?"

"Nope. We just… I mean, I… When are you going to tell me how to kill Multi-plex? I mean, sheesh! There we were, all ready to do him in, and it turns out I don't know how."

"You were there? You've been inside his tower?"

"Yeah, we've been in the Tower of Power. He had a bunch of really nasty things we had to hack our way through, and then some vamps that thought they were all that. But we took them out and then he was all mad at Spike for not killing me and he told us to get out. And Spike asked me how to kill him, and I didn't know, so we came back to find out." She beamed at Giles. "So. How do we kill him?"

Giles shook his head, trying to follow the conversation while he also processed that Spike's demon would not kill Buffy even when ordered to by a magician. Leaving that troubling thought for another day, he said, "You can't. You will have to get Willow and I close enough to work a spell that will send him back to… well, to wherever he came from."

"No problem. We know where he is, don't we, Spike?"

After much loud discussion, it was agreed that everyone would go. Tara and Anya would add their voices to Giles and Willow's in hopes that it would strengthen the spell. Xander would accompany them because… he was Xander and he wouldn't allow his friends to go off to battle without him.

"I don't like it, Spike muttered. "It's too quiet. There's got to be something coming. That bugger isn't going to let us just waltz back in there… Bloody hell!"

"Oh how pretty!" Willow said. "Look at it!"

"I am looking at it," Buffy said, pulling her sword from its sheath on her back. "It's a dragon – a skeleton dragon." Spike also produced a sword and joined her as they waited for it to approach.

"Wings first, love," he said. "Then the other bones."

"You're going to kill it?" Willow was appalled.

"Uh, yeah? I think we know what it's doing here. What do you expect me to do with it? You know it's going to try to stop us…"

"But it's beautiful!" Willow pointed at the silver-boned creature circling overhead.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Now is not the time for 'It followed me home, can I keep it,'" he said, shaking his head. "Just get out of the way and let the Slayer and me handle it."

Willow ignored him and had a quick whispered conversation with Tara while Spike and Buffy stepped forward to meet the dragon as it settled to the ground some distance away.

"Go back!" it said in a voice that rattled past the bones holding up its head. "You may not pass."

"Oh, we're passing, Puff. You can count on it." Buffy glared and waved her sword around.

"Puff?"

"The Magic Dragon. What's wrong with you, did you sleep through the folky era?"

"Wasn't really my scene, Slayer," he growled, hefting his own sword as the dragon clacked its way toward them. It's bony tail dragged across the swampy ground, leaving a trail behind it.

Just as it got close enough for Buffy to take a practice swing at it's head, Willow and Tara began to chant. The dragon roared and lifted his wings, opening his mouth to show sharp teeth as big as one of Buffy's stakes. He loomed over the Slayer and her vampire, holding his wings out of reach and crouching to attack.

And then he was gone. Buffy and Spike whirled around, swords at the ready. They looked up into the night sky, but there was no flash of silver or sound of wings. It wasn't until a glint on the ground caught their eyes that they noticed the tiny figured hopping around in the grass.

Willow ran up, cooing, "There you go, pretty thing. Willow's got you. I'll take good care of you…" She scoped up the tiny dragon and put him in her pocket, then looked at a gaping Buffy. "What? Problem solved. You don't have to fight a dragon, and I have a new pet. I'm going to call him… okay. Not Puff. Something else. Something more… dragony."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX


End file.
